The Gilmore Boys! But Eww Not Really
by MatildaHummingbird
Summary: A shameless Gary Sue fic: Shawn finishes off a case with a Grand Slam both literally and figuratively. He's not entirely sure he's ready for his life to change so drastically, but sometimes adulthood has a habit of sneaking up on you. 16 years too late.
1. Chapter 1: Grand Slam

**A/N: **I wasn't going to write this – I really wasn't. I'm normally the one groaning in pain when I come across these fics but then the plot bunny backed me into a corner and I didn't know what to do! Thus I will take the Gary Sue oath.

**I solemnly swear, that no matter how annoying, how angsty, or how intelligent my Gary Sue seems to be I will REFUSE to allow him to steal the show. **

**~Matilda**

PS – Even though it kills me, this isn't a slash fic. I'm not very good at developing multiple relationships in a story. As always reviews are encouraged, let me know what you think! Thanks!

**Grand Slam**

The case was over, and Shawn was relieved – he didn't think the murderer would slip up but as it stands "Mr. Groove" as Shawn had nick named him was just a bit of an idiot and wasn't very good at hiding a diary.

Thankfully Shawn was good at lying, and after covering his tracks thoroughly he had returned to the police station only to have 'painful visions' of the words written in Mr. Groove's notebook, and in a display of wild hand movements and forced whimpers Shawn had led the way to Mr. Groove's apartment. The result? was now in a holding cell in the SBPD head quarters.

"Very nice work Mr. Spencer." The Chief commended him like she normally did, and Juliet who was all smiles did the same.

"You really hit this one out of the park." Juliet said.

"All in a day's work." Shawn flaunted a bit and turned to Gus who for now was keeping to himself. Not for much longer. "Gus! Lets celebrate – I think we should hit up IHOP." He turned to everyone else "IHOP anyone?"

"Perhaps another time." The Chief said, and Juliet too declined. Which left Lassie.

"Lassie – IHOP. Lets go." Shawn insisted, but true to his form Lassiter just grumbled.

"Paperwork."

"Fine." Shawn pretended to look upset, but he quickly smiled and bid his farewell taking Gus with him.

"We're really going to IHOP?" Gus said, and laughing Shawn shook his head.

"Not if you don't want to – there's always Denny's."

"Denny's being the preferred choice." Gus answered "I wouldn't mind getting my Grand Slam on."

"If I convince the waitress it's my birthday I can get a grand slam for free..." Shawn sounded excited then "Yes – Denny's it is!"

And Denny's it was, over and over again. Shawn was feeling spontaneous and he had talked Gus into taking on over the menu. Just so its clear; hamburgers, AND french toast? Not the greatest idea on Shawn's part.

"Gus – why did you let me do that?" Shawn put his hand on his stomach and rubbed it repeatedly, god he felt so full – and sick, sick and full. Damn you Grand Slam.

"Really?" Gus quirked a brow "Really Shawn, you're blaming me?"

"You're the one who talked me into Denny's." Shawn argued.

"Only because you wanted IHOP – what's so special about IHOP?" Gus demanded "Denny's has the bigger menu."

Shawn regarded the various empty plates in front of them. "You're telling me."

"Let's just pay and go home." Gus said then, and when Shawn reached for his wallet he winced.

"Too full to carry on, go on without me!" Shawn was dramatic and acting like he had just been shot.

"People are staring." Gus had on his serious face.

"You'd think television would provide enough entertainment so they wouldn't have to." Shawn joked, and he forced himself to stand – making a point to wave at an old lady who was staring at him like she wanted him to burn. "Hey how's it going?"

The lady huffed and turned away, Gus having to pull Shawn along. "Leave the nice elderly alone Shawn."

Shawn pouted, but soon enough his bill was paid and he and Gus were on route to Shawn's apartment.

"Want to hang out tonight?" Shawn asked "It's still early we can rent a movie."

"I work tomorrow." Gus declined "Dinner was good though."

"Don't talk about dinner." Shawn groaned "Mentioning food right now risks me having to pay for new seat covers in here."

"Don't you dare!" Gus snapped "I have very specific rules about keeping this car clean Shawn!"

"I know I know." Shawn chorused "Just don't mention Grand Slams and I'll be fine, I don't think I can handle another one today."

"I hate you Shawn." Gus sounded just a tad aggravated – you never joked about puking in the blueberry. Ever.

Shawn just waved him off, and looked up just as they were approaching his apartment – which currently had a police vehicle occupying the drive way.

"Hang on…" Shawn got serious; he immediately noticed that the vehicle wasn't SBPD but rather an OPP.

"OPP?" Gus turned to Shawn.

"Ontario Provincial Police." Shawn answered "Why there's one currently here in my drive way is the answer I don't have."

"The last time we were in Canada did you do something illegal?" Gus asked, and Shawn shrugged.

"Not that I remember." Though Shawn looked like he was thinking about it. Gus pulled the car over and Shawn exited the blueberry and headed up the walkway just as the uniform who was knocking on his door gave up and turned around.

"Can I help you?" Shawn asked, and the officer nodded.

"Looking for Shawn Spencer." The officer said, and Shawn became a bit weary.

"That's me." Shawn confirmed "Why do you ask though Officer…?"

"Officer Jameson."

"Jameson." Shawn repeated, and he turned to Gus and pointed him out. "My partner Gus, we do a lot of work with the SBPD. I'm sure you've read my blog…wait nevermind I don't have a blog. Whoops. Now what seems to be the problem Officer Jameson?"

Gus gave Shawn a bemused look as Officer Jameson spoke.

"Mr. Spencer do you recall a woman by the name Karley Winston?"

Karley Winston was a blast from the past; she was a transfer student back when Shawn was in Grade 11. A girl Shawn actually dated for about 4 months before her dad who was a member of the Canadian military got posted back in Canada. Shawn hadn't seen her since. Shawn turned to Gus, who was currently having the same recollection.

"Yes." Shawn said immediately "I do – but I haven't seen her in years."

"I haven't either." Gus said "She never called after she moved."

"What's this about?" Shawn looked back to the Officer.

"Well." Jameson said "I regret to tell you that recently passed away."

"Oh." Shawn said "I had no idea – that's horrible."

"Yes – well." Officer Jameson carried on. "She had a will, and part of the reason I'm here is to abide by her final wishes."

"I'm in her will?" Shawn and Gus shared confused looks – Shawn didn't even know people his age could have wills. "How am I in her will?" He wondered then if she was giving him that remote control car he always played with whenever he hung out at her house. That'd be cool.

"It was her final wish that in the event that should anything happen to her, her son would have the opportunity to meet his father."

Remote control cars were awesome, seriously awesome – Shawn was actually debating getting one the other day. A red one, a convertible – that'd be so cool. Then he'd buy little G.I Joe action figures and drive them around the Psych office. While blaring Europe's Final Countdown. Epic.

"Shawn!" Gus elbowed him in the side and Shawn was back on earth.

"I'm sorry – what?" Shawn blinked, and Officer Jameson looked perplexed.

"I was just saying that Ms. Winston's final wish was for her son to meet his father."

"I don't understand…" Shawn was shocked "I mean – cool of her, but why does that bring you to me? I mean I can't possibly be….I don't even do my own laundry sometimes…what father?...Karely had a son?"

Shawn's mind was going about a mile minute, was this officer really saying what he was saying? Shawn looked to Gus again who only offered a helpless shrug.

"Yes." Officer Jameson repeated "Karley Winston had a son, and in her will she specifically names you as the child's father."

"But the child is probably already only 16." Shawn rambled but then frowned "I didn't know."

_Shit shit shit shit shit…..shit_

"Look, the kid isn't even a US citizen. All you have to do is meet him once, shake his hand, tell him a couple stories and whatever. Then we take him back to Canada and throw him in the system for two years until he's old enough to move out on his own." Officer Jameson didn't sound sympathetic at all, and Shawn decided he didn't like that about the officer.

"Hey." Shawn suddenly snapped "If this kid is mine, I'm not about to throw him in the system, don't be so hasty there Officer."

"Shawn!" Gus pulled on his arm. "Think about what you're saying – you haven't even met the kid yet!" Aw yes Gus, always the voice of reason. What would Shawn do with out him?

"Fair enough." Shawn calmed a bit. "Well where is he? Bring him out."

The officer shrugged and moved to the police cruiser opening the back door. "Scott wake up."

Shawn temporarily forgot how to breathe, when Jameson opened the door to the cruiser – there was suddenly this teenager curled up on the back seat. At first Shawn only saw the top of the kid's head; cropped medium length, shaggy, and the same shade of brunette as Shawn's. Then there were the kid's clothes; blue jeans, black runners, and a dark denim jacket. This couldn't be Shawn's son Shawn decided - the jacket had a giant Ed Hardy logo on the back of it. Shawn hated Ed Hardy. Ed Hardy was tacky. Of course, the kid then stirred and lifting his head he immediately met Shawn's gaze. Shawn took in the kid's features, his stomach dropped and his mouth went dry.

_Holy crap …I'm a father._


	2. Chapter 2: Tools

**A/N: **So the time line in my head is a little screwed up, I'm writing this story with the assumption that right now in 2011 Shawn is 33, meaning that 16 years ago – he was 17. Thus he was in grade 11 in 1995 the year Scott was born. It isn't perfect arithmetic however it falls under a category I like to call 'fan fic logic' thus making anything and everything I write perfectly okay! However this story is STILL a work in progress so please don't sue me! I'm aware of how self absorbed this story is. I'm the first one to admit that once you remove all the quirkyness and place the fine lines under a looking glass that it's the same story written but hundreds of Inu Yasha fans before me! (Inu Yasha only being the first example and not the full accusation) Also I know that the summary alone has prevented most if not all readers to shy away. However I promise to do my best, and to stop as soon as the evil plot bunny leaves me alone! ….Moving on now…

REVIEWS ARE ENCOURAGED – even if you are just kicking my ass for putting this idea down on paper.

Chow for Now!  
~Matilda

P.S

Like my other fics, I did read this over and I fixed what spelling and grammar errors I could find. However I once again regret to inform you that I am not an expert. Thus this page isn't perfect. So! If anyone out there would like to provide BETA assistance, PM me and we'll talk! Thanks! Also I hate this Storie's title but can't figure out a better one, please help me. ;-;

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Psych, I only own Scott. Hate on him if you will, but remember – this is only a fan fiction a mere 'what if.' If you can't appreciate the amount of fun I'm having writing this -then off with you I say! Leave me and my Gary Sue at peace! _

**Tools**

Shawn watched as the kid 'Scott' slowly untangled his long limbs and exit the vehicle. He was a teenager like any other, kind of awkward looking, and not completely filled out yet. His clothes were about a size too big Shawn noticed, but based on the brands he also guessed it wasn't from lack of money but from too much money. Spoiled. Then getting right down to the physical stuff Scott's facial features didn't completely match Shawn's. His eyes and mouth were the same; however the way the kid seemed to analyze Shawn down to the last detail made his brow crinkle – which reminded Shawn of a younger version of his dad.

_Creepy._

"This him?" Scott's voice was past puberty, surprisingly deep for someone his age. Shawn blinked- that definitely wasn't from Shawn's side of the gene pool. Shawn remembered how deep Karley's dad's voice had been, though he had only met the elder Winston a handful of times.

"Yeah – this is me." Shawn stepped lightly, and falling back he pointed at Gus. "This is Gus."

"So – I have two dads now?" Scott's accusation would've made Shawn laugh if the pending situation wasn't so….world changing.

"Nono…" Gus answered immediately "Gus isn't dad- just Gus, I'm not y'know… not even a little."

"That's cool." Scott answered and he looked back to Officer Jameson. "Are we done here?"

"Hey – wait just a second here." Shawn said "You're not the least bit excited or curious even? Stick around for awhile man -do you want an ice cream or something?"

"Lactose." Scott responded "So no – and uh, no offence but before coming here I looked up your website. I don't associate with wackos."

"Wackos?"

"People who believe they're something they're not." Scott said. "Michael Jackson, Willy Wonka, Abe Lincoln, Psychic."

Gus snickered, and if he hadn't moved more then an arms length away from Shawn, Shawn would've smacked him.

"Stay the night." Shawn said then. "If you really think I'm a wacko by the morning, you never have to see me again."

Scott regarded Shawn for a long moment, Shawn again met his gaze and though he had about a foot on the kid he couldn't shake the familiarity. God this was so weird. Scott wasn't a clone of Shawn at all, but Shawn still was already referring to him as his tiny doppelganger.

"Cool." Scott agreed and he turned to Officer Jameson "Pop the trunk?"

_Cool. _Shawn decided this kid said cool way too much – it was annoying. Teenagers were annoying. He watched as Officer Jameson moved to trunk and popped it open; Scott reached into the trunk and pulled out a blue duffel bag. He slung it over his shoulder and looked to Shawn expectantly. Now what?

"I'll be back first thing in the morning." Officer Jameson announced – and it was Gus who quirked a brow now.

"You're just letting him stay here?"

"He's 16." The Officer said. "I just witnessed him agree to stay, nothing I can do about it. I'll be back by 9 to make sure you didn't kill him."

"That's a relief." Shawn used sarcasm – this kid was just being dropped on him? How, why? ….D'oh boy….

"In the morning Mr. Spencer." Officer Jameson didn't seem to get the point and with a curt nod he was back in his cruiser and driving away; Scott gave a small wave and turned back to Shawn.

"Jameson's a tool; I learned that on the ride here." He started walking away then. "See ya."

Shawn was perplexed – Scott was leaving now? What?

"The kid's leaving." Gus said "Might want to grab him."

"Hey Scott!" Shawn acted quickly then, and when Scott turned around to stare at him, his annoyed glare was Henry's through and through and Shawn could've cringed. Regardless -"Where are you going?"

"To a motel." Scott answered "You're not about to spend the night with a kid you hardly know."

"It's not something I do on a daily basis – but I think tonight I can make an exception, didn't that officer just say you're kind of my kid?"

"You really believe that?" Scott looked amused, and he chuckled – his laugh was as deep as his voice. "No D.N.A test, no documents of any kind – just here's a teenager have fun?"

"Got you there Shawn." Gus added.

Shawn thought about it, it was true – this situation was odd as odd can be. He never in a million years thought he'd be the possible father of a 16 year old – not one like this anyhow. He honestly didn't know what to do. Obviously the kid wasn't too concerned about making a connection; he was probably just dragged along for the ride because it was in his mother's will. That had to suck. Shawn sympathized with that, so his kid or not he wasn't about to let him run off.

"Okay then." Shawn said "How's this sound – because my head is about to explode, how about tonight we forget Officer Jameson exists and I'm just taking you in as a friendly drifter. It'll be free; you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to."

"Great." Answered; Scott "Then tomorrow we can put up a Christmas tree and paint Easter eggs."

"Don't reprimand me." Shawn said "Easter eggs are awesome."

"You're serious?" Scott gawked a bit, and Shawn felt victorious. _Aha got you there kid!_ _Easter eggs are awesome!_

"Maybe I'm down with Easter eggs and Christmas in July? – Just another sale at Macy's." Shawn finished his sentence with a defiant "boo yeah!" and he motioned his hands like a rapper 'representin'.

Scott seemed to think about it, and turning his heel made way for Shawn's apartment just as Gus started heading to his car.

"Wait Gus – where are you going?" Shawn suddenly panicked.

"Home." Gus said "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" Shawn said "I need you." He pleaded.

"Shawn – this is big, this kid is supposedly yours and you're jumping in without getting any proof. I can't help you." Gus explained, he then quickly added his full opinion. "You're crazy."

"Maybe so." Shawn concluded "but I can't let this kid stay in a motel by himself – stay awhile, give me tips. Teenagers today aren't as awesome as we are, they're weird and they sit around malls a lot."

"There's nothing I can do here." Gus answered "Watch a movie, buy some chips, ask him what he likes – be hospitable."

"Hospitable." Shawn repeated "I can do that."

"Yes you can, you're a big boy." Gus told him, "Just don't kill him."

"Right – because that would be bad." Shawn agreed, and reluctantly he let Gus go.

Gus left then and Shawn watched him depart with a frown – he didn't think he'd have to do this with out his best bud, sunava bitch he just had to go on and bite off more then he could chew now didn't he? Damn.

So with Gus gone, Shawn had to face the kid alone. He turned back to his apartment – and instead of seeing Scott waiting by the door, Scott was by Shawn's motorcycle.

"72 Norton." Shawn walked up introducing his bike, and Scott just looked up at him with the same stoic expression he had when he first came out of the police cruiser.

"I know." Scott said "Just trying to figure out of it's the original engine – looks smaller."

"It is smaller." Shawn said "The model was discontinued; ordering original parts for maintenance is a bitch – and costly."

"Not if you drive properly." Scott countered "What do you go off ramps with this thing or something?"

"Not exactly." Shawn could've pouted – why did this kid keep questioning him? "How would you know anyhow?" Shawn said then "You drive?"

"Someday." Scott answered "It's a work in progress."

"Ah." Shawn answered – meaning what exactly?

_Ask him; connect with him – he's half invested in conversation, that's the first step. _

Where was that annoying voice of reason coming from? Shawn batted the thought away and changed the subject.

"Ready to head in?" Shawn asked, and Scott only nodded letting Shawn lead the way. They had motorcycles in common – okay so far so good. Maybe this kid wasn't so bad. Shawn still hated the Ed Hardy jacket though. So very much so…

Entering the apartment was an adventure and a half, Shawn walked in like he normally did – he was home, and happy to be home. He headed straight for the couch. Scott on the other hand walked in and immediately started looking around like he just stepped into the twilight zone.

"We're – at a dry cleaners…um, okay…"

"I got a deal on rent." Shawn explained "It has its perks, for instance – my closet moves." Shawn was up then and demonstrating, Scott's lips thinned into something that resembled judgement.

"Your closet moves." Scott confirmed, he then continued to look around. "One bedroom I take it?"

"Er – yeah." Shawn said.

"So I'm on the couch then?"

"No…" Shawn said – he didn't think he'd have to give up his room, damn! Oh but sigh… he wasn't about to stick the poor kid on the couch unwillingly either "I can take the couch."

"Couch is fine." Scott said "Don't panic now."

"Well – feel free to wander." Shawn insisted "Find out where everything is."

"Thanks." Said Scott "I'm sure all 12 steps will be riveting." His sarcastic voice once again reminded Shawn of his dad and the urge to cringe got stronger.

"Okay…" Shawn took a breathe, a good long one – he was starting to remember why people his age weren't supposed to interact with people Scott's age, not because it was creepy -but because it could lead to murder. "How about a movie?" He pointed to his DVD collection.

"Not big on films." Scott said "Not bad ones anyway – but lets see here." He crouched and started flicking through the titles. "You live in the 80's." Scott said then "Can I just point out its 2011?"

"I have certain tastes." Shawn defended "Sue me."

"I just might." Scott said "Truth is relative; if you say anything more then enough times it'd stand in a court of law. I could take you."

Was he joking? Why couldn't Shawn tell if he was joking? Arg! "Then let's just go to bed." Shawn gave up. "I don't know how to entertain you."

"I'm a teenager." Scott reminded him, "just leave me alone for 5 minutes, I'll find something."

Shawn didn't like the sounds of that. "What are you planning?"

"I don't know yet." Scott shrugged, and finally he took off his bag and threw it onto the couch. "I'll let you know when I get there." He then vanished into the kitchen.

Shawn was at a loss, this kid was – so surreal. There were traits Shawn immediately recognized as his own; Scott's stance, and eyes, and mouth all matched his, but Scott's personality seemed to vary. He was quick witted which was something Shawn could respect. However he also seemed to question every detail, and scrutinize every word. Truthfully Scott was coming off as a smart ass. Just like Shawn's dad. So that concluded traits from Shawn's side of the family – uncanny really.

Yet no matter how alike Scott and he seemed to be, Shawn could also pick off where Scott was different. Scott's voice was abnormally deep; his bone structure was lanky but wide telling Shawn that if the kid started weight training – he'd be huge. Like 'roid head' huge. Shawn also noticed the kid's hands looked exceptionally rough and not just at the tips of the fingers signally that maybe he played the guitar, but rather all over. Like he worked with his hands on a daily basis, that detail brought Shawn back to about 20 minutes ago when they were outside looking at his bike.

_A work in progress._

"Well I'll be damned." Shawn muttered to himself, Scott was building himself a motorcycle. Or at least that was Shawn's guess. A wicked grin appeared on Shawn's face then, earlier Scott mentioned he didn't believe Shawn was psychic – a wacko he called him? Ha! "I'll show you whose a wacko and whose not." Shawn put his hands to his temples in a dramatic sense, and he frolicked his way into the kitchen.

"I'm getting something." Shawn said, his eyes were closed to add to the dramatic effect. So he didn't notice the mess that was currently spread out over his counter. "Yes – something big…about you young Scott – oh…" Shawn started humming – the humming quickly turning into obnoxious motor sounds. "Yes, its clear now – the work in progress, you young Scott are indeed building a motorcycle!" Shawn opened his eyes expecting to see the same amazed look he normally got at the police department from Jules and the Chief. Instead he only got a teenage boy staring back him; with one raised eyebrow, a screw driver in one hand, a pair of pliers in the other, and a whole mess of screws and metal plates on his counter.

"Really?" Scott said "You just had that vision just now? Not 20 minutes ago when I implied I was working with motorcycles?"

_Dammit._

"Yes." Shawn countered "and you never implied it – not once did the words 'I'm building a motorcycle' leave your mouth. Nor did you ever say anything about knowing how to build a motorcycle _at all_ and further more…" Shawn stopped talking then, and the index finger he was holding up to prove his point was now pointed with uncertainty at his kitchen counter and the mess of metal scattered on it. It took him a second to realize what Scott had done. "That is my toaster."

Scott didn't answer; he just went back to taking the toaster apart. Shawn didn't like that.

"Dude!" Shawn exasperated "That's my toaster!"

"I'll put it back." Scott assured him "I don't know why you're freaking out though; you got this thing for three bucks – at a yard sale I'm guessing."

Again Shawn frowned, and nearly cursed. "How could you possibly know that?"

Scott's answer then was to hold up one of the outer panels of the toaster, the old $3 dollar sticker was still clinging on to dear life even though it looked as if it had been beaten repeatedly.

_Rotten little…._

Shawn sighed – if this was what parenthood was- then there was no question about it. He wanted out. Like Now.


End file.
